


Famished

by EmmaofTarth



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Dotin, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Leah and Nora shit doesn’t go down, Neither does Rachel’s shark attack, Sentimental, Sexual Tension, Smut, What-If, elite flirting, im begging, plz people write more Dotin fics, s01e08, what if scenarios fulfilled, what is Dotin’s lychee tree?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaofTarth/pseuds/EmmaofTarth
Summary: Fatin suggests Dot could have been her “oral hygienist” had the pilot not discovered them...
Relationships: Dorothy Campbell/Fatin Jadmani, Dot Campbell/Cargo Pants, Dot Campbell/Fatin Jadmani
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	1. Is Everyone Really Getting Themselves Off?

“Is everyone really getting themselves off?” Fatin asked when alone with Dot and with an uncharacteristically innocent tone. The sincerity of her puppy dog eyes surely down to Jeanette’s spiked gummies, thought Dot.

“Um ... yeah.” She scoffed, rubbing the back of her neck, and darting her eyes around Fatin’s face instead of at it. Suddenly ... uncomfortable, and then curious: “and you really haven’t?” 

Pause. 

“Oh penis whisperer, queen of pound town, and goddess of the big O,” Dot chuckled and, fidgeting, drew lines in the wet sand with her hands - just as calloused as Fatin’s own cello mangled ones. And, oddly, drawing Fatin’s eyes to the mesmerising motions of Dot’s fingers. 

Catching herself Fatin returned to her raunchy self attempting to quickly sweep away that drop of facade.

“Swear,” drawing a cross on her chest, mirroring Dot and drawing attention to her fingers and consequently her breasts, which were on show in one of the many scandalous bikini tops Fatin had brought to the island. Dot was staring as if waiting for Shelby’s green flash at sunset. “I mean, sand all up in my twat, no thanks,” Fatin continued and Dot swivelled her head to the farthest point in the sky away from Fatin’s chest and directly into a cloud of smoke from the fire.

“Argh!” Fatin laughed.

Blinking the tears away, Dot drove the heels of her hands into her eyes and suggested: “You could always have done it in the cave .. though maybe a bat shitting into your “other” mouth would be a little less than satisfactory and a _lot_ less than you’re used to. Martha’s suitcase? The pool? There are no jet’s like Shelby’s jacuzzi but it’s more sanitary and doubles as your bath for the day. Two in one.”

“The ever resourceful Dorothy. Now, pray tell, why are you so interested in getting me off?” Fatin grinned her wicked smile, sliding her ass along the log they were sat on to nudge shoulders with, the increasingly flustered, Dorothy. 

“Um... Ugh.. I’m not  _interested_ in getting you off. I just thought, what with stealing our inventory, you must have been working up  some kind of sweat. I was anticipating  _heavy_ workouts with your “oral hygienist” or maybe some grinding up on gym rat, fuck boi Marcus. What would Martha think? The betrayal.” Dot, faux aghast, held the back of her hand to her forehead, and slid back off the log. Back pressed on the wet sand, legs still on the log, she could breathe again with Fatin’s hot skin not ...stifling her. 

“Sadly, the truth is just I’m  _sooo_ thirsty  _allll_ the time” Fatin said emphatically, rolling her eyes, and flopping back from the log to lie beside Dot.

“Hellooo? Drink  **water** , then. Ever heard of it?”

“I don’t  _like_ water. You know me, I need a little something something, a little mmm flavour,” manically wiggling her eyebrows at their innuendos to really hammer home her meaning. 

Dot scoffed and turned her head away from Fatin to stare into the woods darkened by nightfall. Everyone else had collapsed from the booze and recreationals, huddled together like a mismatched pack of stray dogs. 

Dot would miss this.

She wouldn’t have  opted for this summer (who would?) but the bond formed between the girls was nothing like Dot had ever imagined, and everything her old man had wanted for her. 

The twins so different but both loudly and quietly passionate respectively. 

Martha, timid but beautiful and brave in her spirituality and all encompassing love.

Toni, fiery when wronged but funny and sweet when comfortable.

Shelby, so surprising to Dot was her genuineness and how much they had bonded despite their never having spoken at school.

Leah with all her crazy was an all feeling girl, loyal to a fault but so kind and intelligent when she slackened her jaw and relaxed.

And Fatin, a fast friend, hilariously funny and at times a haughty princess but deserving of the worship granted. 

While the other girls felt like sisters to Dot, she was wildly, almost possessively, protective of Fatin. She wondered why that was as she watched the stars and steadied her breath to sync with her companions’.

Fatin inhaled as if to say something and then stopped herself when Dot lazily turned her head to look at her. 

Their faces were so close, Dot felt Fatin’s warm, minty breath on the tip of her nose. 

“What?” Fatin shook her head. “What were you going to say? Don’t go quiet on me now miss Fatin unfiltered bad bitch no-fucks-given Jadmani,” Dot laughed awkwardly.

“I like sex-“ Dot rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say duh! but Fatin hushed her with a sharp nailed grip around her bicep.

“-And I am not opposed in  _trying_ times to ask a _buddy_ for some  _help_... ” A seriousness foreign to Fatin fell onto the conversation and silenced Dot.

“And ... and I would have chosen you if it had come to it, which it  _definitely_ would have come to it.” Fatin swallowed her nervousness and tried to meet Dot’s flickering eyes, clearly embarrassed.

Dot resolved to staring at the sky and with the long, deafening silence Fatin continued with a forced chuckle: “Dorothy you’re going to be my live-in muscle and introduced as my butch lover to the white, upper class, old ass neighbours, so why should we not have given them some truth to the speculations? I would have given you some moves to take home to Mateo” Fatin rolled her shoulders forward, another dance from her eyebrows suggestively accompanying her words.

Dot lurched forward then, laughing so hard she needed to grip her stomach to stop it hurting, but surprisingly -even to herself- she was not laughing at her friend’s suggestion.

“Why me?” Dot finally asked, breathing heavily from laughing. 

“The cargo pants mainly,” she quipped with the ever present mischievous glint in her eye. 

“But didn’t you know,Fatin? We all have our own swaggg” Dot mimicked Toni, drawling out the last word and making a faux sexy face that was anything but. 

“There is nothing swag about  these ” she laughed, pinching the fabric of Dot’s cargo pants between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Oi” Dot yelped, swatting Fatin’s hand away all the while chuckling along. Lying her hands under her head, Dot sighed.

“Damn, if only the pilot had never seen us” Dot whispered, only somewhat sarcastically.


	2. Dorothy and Fatin under the lychee tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m claiming the lychee tree for Dotin. Try and stop me.

It was evident three days later that no one was coming.

The jokes were over and the group had had a heavy silence overhead for the past few days.

Preserving energy. Trying not to make real this realisation and overall trying not to cry.

No one was really talking, but Dot and Fatin especially. Dot couldn’t help but have the echoing words of Fatin’s confession, no,  _plan_ rattling around in her head.

She collected more firewood than necessary, attempted with no avail to fish like she had watched Bear Grylls do effortlessly, and harvested the lychee tree after Shelby and Toni’s discovery, just to avoid the campsite. Avoiding the defeated atmosphere, but most crucially the questioning glances from Fatin.

The conversation had felt like harmless flirtation when it was a “what if” scenario, but as the light of day saw no rescue plane flying overhead, Dot couldn’t help but think of fulfilling her and Fatin’s on-island plans.

She got scared. Plain and simple.

Fatin’s friendship meant too much and Dot had never thought of girls like  _that_ before. The defiant “I’m not a lesbian, sorry to disappoint” comment made on the plane was totally cringe in light of their most recent conversation, and particularly how it made Dot feel.

So, she did what she always does and suppressed. Emotions were gooey and difficult to deal with, practicality was a welcome distraction, she reminded herself on her second walk to the lychee tree in three days. Hiking the signposted trail, Dot subconsciously touched each mark of Fatin’s nail polish as she passed them, and sighed not from exertion but from the weight of her thoughts. 

The lychee tree would be barren after this harvest.

It’s once full leaves sparse as a result of the girls’ hunger. Dot had purposefully not worn her cargo pants, to not draw attention from Fatin (despite fully knowing her joke was not based in reality but attempting to rationalise the discussion - albeit in an irrational way). Cursing the decision, Dot filled her measly four jean short pockets and shortly realised her arms could not carry the rest. “Idiot,” she muttered, “they aren’t gay, they are practical.”

“Need help?” Fatin had watched Dot struggle for five minutes, suppressing laughter, from the animated scene of Dot stuffing her tight jean shorts’ pockets with lychees and them consequently falling out.  The frustrated furrowed brow lifted at the sound of Fatin’s voice approaching.

Flustered, she dropped the lychees from her arms and looked hopelessly at the ground. Fatin laughed, a hard contagious laugh, that soon had Dot smiling through her embarrassed red face and nodding defeatedly.

They knelt to the floor and gathered the fallen fruits in silence. 

“So ... you’ve been pretty quiet these past few days” Fatin observed.

Dot shrugged but realised Fatin wasn’t looking at her as she searched the forest floor so said “Yeah ... I’m just bummed like everyone else.” 

“Mm ... that’s not it.” Fatin stated factually, “if I’ve offended you Dorothy, I’m sorry.”

Dot who had sat back on her heels and was clapping her hands together to remove the dusty dirt from them froze, mid clapping, in shock at the apology. 

“Woah ... didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary,” she couldn’t help but jape. Fatin curled her fist around a pile of dust and launched it at Dot while laughing. “Shut up, asshole!” She yelled, still laughing.

“I’m not offended, Fatin,” Dot then said with a seriousness that stopped Fatin’s smile. “I’m ... confused. I’ve never really had a female friend or a friend at all for that matter so I don’t know the ...  procedure with something like this ...” she trailed off, looking at the floor and then flicking her eyes up to look at Fatin. She was smiling, but warmly not mockingly.

““procedure”? God Dorothy, why do you overthink everything? Just, shut up for a minute.”

Fatin crawled towards Dot then at a pace that allowed for Dorothy to flee if she wanted to, but all the while maintaining eye contact that locked her in place. Placing her hands at each side of Dot’s legs, Fatin stretched up and paralleled her face with the other girls.

A peck to begin with.

Soft girls lips touching, revealing a femininity unfamiliar to Dot in herself and her unnurtured attraction to femininity also. Fatin leaned back sitting on her own heels and searching Dot’s face. 

“I have only had sex with men, Dorothy. But, I know I want to have sex with you. Bisexuality or Queerness or curiosity or whatever the fuck you want to call it is valid Dot. You can change your mind. Hell, we changed our minds about one another, didn’t we? Never did I think you’d be my closest friend.”

The bluntness of Fatin constantly refreshed Dot. She felt more at ease knowing Fatin’s feelings which she would freely give without even needing asked.

“Call out for Marcus if it makes it less weird,” she smiled wickedly as Dot guffawed and met her eyes with such overwhelming fondness Fatin could only stare. 

“Y’know the toothbrush would add extra ...  _vibrations_ ” a familiar slyness taking over Dot’s face. Fatin, shocked by Dot’s sudden change in attitude, raised her eyebrows but welcomed their banterous flirtation - that she had not so secretly missed.

“I told you I’m not brushing my teeth and my labia with the same thing!”

Dottie kissed her hard then, pushing her back slightly with the weight of the kiss.

Their lips parting and breathing life into their yearning bodies. Dot’s tongue pushed its way into Fatin’s mouth with welcomed hunger - she who was famished from food and sex and orgasms.

Pulling back with matched heavy breaths, Dot’s eyes shifted to the side in slight embarrassment and then cheekily she said: “might as well sacrifice the toothbrush for “labia brushing” because it is doing nothing for your breath.”


End file.
